The Hanging
by Cinomarsh
Summary: Sweeney Todd's thoughts as he awaits a rather unexpected end.


**Hello once again! Here's another story in what's shaping up to be a series of Sweeney Todd first-person one-shots! Your feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated! In other words reviews make my day :). I still don't own Sweeney Todd.**

It wasn't raining. The sky looked as if it would soon, but was waiting for something. Perhaps it was. Perhaps, like many of the residents of London, the clouds had gathered and were holding their breath, waiting to watch the demon baker and barber of fleet street be hanged.

I had never thought it would end this way. In fact, I had never really thought it would end at all. I had never thought past the death of the judge, the fulfillment of my purpose. Anything afterwards, including my own death, seemed meaningless.

But I had never fulfilled my purpose. Everything was meaningless now.

The police had just stormed in one afternoon and arrested Mrs. Lovett and I. We would learn later, in court, that a customer had found a finger in their pie. And that was it. They'd gone through the bakehouse and found everything. God knows what they did with Toby. We'd both been sentenced to death, and even now, standing in front of a crowd, next to my accomplice and only minutes away from the noose, I still couldn't believe it.

It felt as though I was dreaming. It didn't feel real. I couldn't be dying yet, I just couldn't. I wasn't done yet. There was a man still living and breathing who wasn't meant to be. He should be dying, not me. If I'm gone, he'll continue. It's not right.

As I involuntarily repeated the thought over and over in the back of my mind, I glanced over at Mrs. Lovett, who didn't look anything like Mrs. Lovett at all. Her hair wasn't up in a tangled mess on her head as it usually was, but hung limp on her shoulders. Her dress was pure black and her skin was pure white, even paler than normal. Her eyes seemed sunken and her lip trembled, just barely detectable to anyone who wasn't standing as close to her as I was. She was terrified.

I had imagined myself killing Mrs. Lovett many times, of course, but I'd never truly imagined her dead. I'd only ever really wanted her out of the way, but the thought of her being genuinely devoid of life seemed ludicrous. She was always full of energy, as if some unseen force was compelling her through her existence. It seemed impossible that that unseen force would, in a matter of moments, be ripped away from her.

Just as I completed this thought, the man standing behind Mrs. Lovett put a hand on her shoulder, leading her up the steps to the platform with the noose. Before they could get it around her neck, however, a voice cried out from the almost silent crowd.

"Mum!"

It was Toby, running through the throngs of people to look up at his adoptive mother with tears falling from his eyes, as I suspected they had been for some time.

"Mum..." The boy repeated, as if floundering for something else to say.

"I love you." He said weakly.

She smiled down at him, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

I saw her mouth form the words "I love you too", and I can only assume she whispered them.

Toby looked as if it was taking all his strength not to run onto the platform and hug her for the last time. The poor lad was probably so conflicted. The only mother he'd ever had was not only a horrible criminal, but she was also about to die right in front of him. It was almost enough to make me pity him.

Before they let her drop, she looked at me. Her eyes were full of the hopeless affection I saw every time I dared to make eye contact with her, but today there was also something else. Was it... Guilt? I had never seen her feel guilty before.

"I'm sorry." She mouthed.

And then the floor came out from under her. And she fell.

It was, in truth, a terrible thing to witness. I could hardly believe it happened. That was, of course, before the body rotated slowly towards me and I saw the eyes. Empty. Completely. It was just a body now. It wasn't her anymore.

Toby had disappeared. I figured it was just as well. One death a day is more than most can handle. I suppose I was surprised he didn't stay for the satisfaction of my death, but it hardly made a difference to me.

Slowly I made my way up to the noose, after my baker's body had been cleared away and my rope had been prepared. I wondered vaguely what she could have been apologizing for. Perhaps she blamed herself for the finger in the pie. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore.

As they placed the noose around my neck, I noticed a beggar woman moving closer to the platform. She came forward to squint at my face, and no one made a move to stop her.

"Don't I know you, mister?" She said, her voice shaky and hoarse.

But I recognized her.

"Lucy?" I whispered.

And then I felt myself fall.


End file.
